


Muses of War

by toadfrontier



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Mutual Pining, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Self-Insert, She/Her and They/Them Pronouns for Hange Zoë, TW: Self Harm, cw: mentions of rape!!!, erwin is a good bro, levi is slightly emotionally constipated, slow burn but they already are involved in some romantic relationship so not but also yes?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:28:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29320185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toadfrontier/pseuds/toadfrontier
Summary: You were sent out with your squad to investigate human threat outside the Walls, but come back alone, severely traumatized and really fucking pissed off. Now with evidence pointing to an inside job, 'freedom' for humanity is seeming more and more like a joke. Falling for Captain Levi Ackermann doesn't help your situation either.
Relationships: Erwin Smith & Reader, Hange Zoë & Reader, Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin)/Reader, Levi Ackerman & Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 40





	1. Fuck you, Universe

**Author's Note:**

> hey y'all!! so basically i'm making up my own plot which i am hoping will tie in nicely with mid-season 3 plot points, so spoilers for up until then!! this is more of an introductory chapter so its super super short BUT i promise y'all Levi will be showing up in later updates. feel free to leave comments or questions, i'd love to hear what y'all think! :)

I would make it.

The threshold to Wall Maria was less than 10 parsecs away, I’d make it. Of course I would. I had people depending on me. Every groan and bruise would be worth it, because I wouldn’t have let them down. The dead would rest easy, they would rest because I’d done it and I am going to cross into those goddamn walls.

Odds were stacked against me, no denying that. I was held for what, weeks? Fuck, could’ve been months, not as if they gave us the luxury of a window. Or sunlight. My pallor has got to rival Captain Ackerman’s at this point.

Levi. Right. I have to get home. I have to get inside the Walls. 

They’d kicked me in good, though. I’d always wanted a straighter nose, I’d figured if they hit hard enough in the right direction it would be kind of natural. Wonder how my lover will feel about the new look, though I don’t think the slightly different slant of my nose would be the thing to draw his notice. If he doesn’t like it I can tell him it wasn’t really up to me, he couldn’t refute that. 

My horse troughed along the rain-soaked terrain, splattering my face with it. I wondered for a second if blood and mud made an interesting colour, or if it just looked like muddy blood. 

It was good; distractions. Distracting myself from my shattered 3rd left rib, my twisted ankle, my dislocated shoulder, the goddamn stab wounds on my back and the horrible puffy mess I could assume ravaged my otherwise pleasing facial features. Captain had thought as much, anyway. 

My horse leaped and I felt gravity pull my organs straight back down the Earth’s very core with it. Saints above. Make it to the walls. Don’t think. Just run. If you can’t make it to the walls, make it to the tree. When you make it to the tree, make it to the boulders. Once you reach the boulders, make it to the shadow of that Ti-

Well. Shit. My ODM gear was busted - correction: destroyed and pillaged for parts for cash. It probably helped that it had been my only mode of transport. And I escaped anyway with their blood tangy on my lips. My gear would’ve been nice though. I knew I had not made it this far to then become titan fodder because of lost gear. Fuck you, Universe. I’d make it to the walls. I may lose a couple limbs in the process, but I will make it into Trost. 

I forcefully yanked the reins on my horse and stopped her dead in her tracks. I’d never been a particularly remarkable rider, but I wasn’t Section Commander for being a shit strategist. A 3-4 meter; nothing. This was nothing.

Atop my horse’s saddle, I could faintly make out the silhouette of the canons on the ridges of the Trost district gates. Oh had I never been so elated to have an entire armed militia point their guns at my head. The gates were there, just ahead. I had a minute at most before that grubby titan swung at my head and popped it like a wine stopper. 

So, I kicked my horse's side and forced her to run. She couldn’t endure this speed for the length of time I needed her to, but I’d take anything. I charged on ahead and circled around the monstrosity’s bloated calves and swerved away swiftly as it bent down too low for a clean bite. 

I watched as it fumbled over its own neck and for good measure, I raced through its parallel feet and grabbed the pocket dagger Wren had found and sliced its Achilles with practiced cuts. It could no longer stand, and I charged forward with all I had left.

Soldiers stationed at the Walls could see me clearly now, as well as they could see the quickly recovered formerly injured Titan coming up behind me and debated giving me entrance. Given, my cape was torn and more mud than forest green polyester but the Survey Corps insignia flew in my steed’s steady speed. Soldiers knew better than to deny an injured commanding officer running into the Walls at full speed without her squad in her wake after having mysteriously disappeared after… I still didn’t know but presumably long enough to be concerning. 

The gates finally creaked open and I barely even attempted to bite back the sigh of relief that escaped my lips. I was back. But I was back alone. I was alone. The moment hooves hit stone, my body crumpled. I rolled off of my horse and hit the ground hard. I was inside the Eastern Gates, and I was inside the Walls. For the first time in what had felt like forever, I felt light. I felt empty. 

Garrison took my horse first (jackasses) and left me wheezing on the ground for a little while. 

"Medical. Now, you incompetent brats," I groaned in what voice I had left.

They were doing a fine job, and I wasn’t on my deathbed, but I was in pain and I had earned the right to be an asshole. Perhaps Levi had just rubbed off on me. 

Eventually, two pairs of arms grabbed mine and hauled me from the ground. I was dead weight, at this point. Every muscle and joint ached to the very depths of my bones. Adrenaline had masked the aches but now I felt every goddamn wound as if they were fresh. But I was going to get treated, because I was inside the walls. I was so relieved, I could cry. I think I did. 

Soldiers screamed my name and rank followed by a swarm of doctors and nurses ushering me over to an exam room. They laid me down and cut open my shirt (I’d make them pay for it later) and watched their skilled eyes assess the damage. 

They set about their work when a rasped breath passed my lips when a certain nurse pressed hard on my stomach. I felt the wounds in my back seeping blood. Though lacking an actual knife, it’s sharp paint cut through quickly. 

“Back might be infected,’’ I managed to whisper. Even if. Even if it was, I was back inside the Walls. And for all my anticipation, I felt slight relief. I felt no joy. I felt no smile on my lips. I was hollowed out. 

They quickly managed to cauterize the gaping wounds and clean out the nasty cuts. When I died (hopefully not on this bed) I’d fall to my knees in prayer to the man who invented morphine. And salve. And alcohol. I needed a drink. 

A hand shoved my shoulder back against the table. I grit my teeth and bit back the inevitable pained groan that rippled it’s way through my throat. Who’s resolve was I protecting? My own? These people had doubtlessly seen worse, they’d understand. It was pointless to fight when I’d already won. So when they shoved my shoulder back in its socket, I screamed. 

I wasn’t the average Garrison soldier (though, valuable as they are) I had Commander Erwin Smith counting on these pretty shoulders of mine and they seemed too mangled to bear that responsibility at the moment. I’d groan and cry as long as it took to get my body back to its original strength. 

They pumped me with fluids, they stuck needles where needles should not be stuck and finally left me to rest in a drugged haze. Painkillers. I let my eyes droop and my face relax into its notable frown and I breathed. I treasured the air in my lungs and the warm breath that came out. I pressed my hand against my collarbone, a faint heartbeat thumping against my palms. With life beating beneath my fingers, I slipped into whatever slumber awaited me. 


	2. Eyes Wide Open

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You wake up, with Hange at your bedside, and try to understand the fact that you're alive. That's it, that's literally all this is. Dialogue and tears. anyway, enjoy y'all!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm shit at summeries but you get the gist, another short-ish chapter. Also, Hange uses she/they pronouns in this story bc i loved androgynous hange in the manga and we're queer in this household (ok, yes this is a het romance but i know some of my fellow bi bitches have an affinity for levi's kind of character archetype. i see you, i am you. also bc this IS a reader insert, if y'all want an explicitly bi/pan/queer mc lemme know bc i will be more than happy to oblige.)

I awoke to sunlight. I’d forgotten how bright the sun was. It’d been so long since I felt it warm my skin. Perhaps it was the vitamin D deficiency burning my retina this time. The sun wasn’t the only glowing thing that morning, though, fellow Section Commander Hange Zoe sat in a nearby chair with a hand positioned under her chin. Pensive with a hard gaze locked onto the stream of light. 

“Mornin’ Hange,’’ I croaked. I sounded hoarse. I sounded terrible. 

Their eyes quickly shot up to meet mine, wide, while a smile blossomed on their lips. Oh Hange, out of the people in this cursed world, I missed her one of the most. I couldn't tell them that, though, it’d get to their head. 

“You’re awake!,’’ She eagerly grabbed my calloused and scaly knuckles into the warm palm of her hands and sighed. 

Silence loomed heavily over us both, stealing our breaths and amplifying our quiet fears. Seconds, minutes, passed just taking in each other’s presence. Finally Hange spoke, hushed, but they spoke. 

“You’re alive,’’ they said. More to themselves than to me. 

‘’Yes. Yes, I am.’’

Hange tended to shoot off at the mouth. It’s a known fact within the Scouts that she spoke _at_ people rather than with them. I loved it. I loved hearing them talk about anything and everything. Her experiments and bubbling new theories until the crack of dawn. It was grim to see they were a person of very few words on this bittersweet morning. 

She wordlessly handed me a glass of water, anticipating the many questions we were both about to ask the other. 

“How bad,’’ was my first. 

They let out a low laugh before pushing their goggles further up their nose. “Somebody really didn’t want you to make it back to the Scouts.’’ 

She wasn’t wrong. I shrugged and drew in a heavy breath, there was a lot to explain. 

"I… I’m not quite sure I know how I got here. By horse, yes. But alive? Some damned God decided they weren’t finished torturing me yet, I suppose.’’ My voice was meek. I was never meek. 

"You made it back,’’ they assured, "That’s enough.’’ 

Hange, oh Hange. I hadn’t believed I’d be seeing a familiar face for weeks after I’d arrived. 

“How’d you get to the East so quickly?,’’ I asked. 

“Erwin wanted me to go over some final specs before we actually deployed the thunder spears. Trost seemed to be in most immediate need of them.’’ 

Yeah, that checked out. I nodded in response. 

“Did your squad…’’ Hange didn't need to finish her sentence, I had already filled in the gaps. 

I waited, though. I waited for my answer to not be true, damn virtue, for once I wanted to lie. I wanted to be harboured by its comfort instead of burned by the truth of grief. 

“No,’’ I finally choked out, despite myself. “No, I arrived alone. The rest uh, they didn’t make it out. Dragging their corpses would’ve only slowed me down and I couldn’t afford to delay.’’

I shuddered at how impassive I sounded, even to my own ears. It had hurt to leave them behind, instead I carried their memory with me. I carried the weight of their deaths and I judged that had been plenty heavy. 

“I couldn’t kill them all,’’ I continued, strained, angry, “But I know their faces. I know the trail of their scars. I know the strain and flux of their voices. I know their gait and the beat of their footsteps better than any song. I’d know their scents from miles away. If I ever see them again, I’ll know.’’ 

“Levi would probably have their heads on a silver platter before you even have the chance.’’ 

Right. Captain Levi Ackermann. 

I swallowed, “How is he?’’

“Outwardly he carries himself as always. Apart from the dusty cabinets, the curved posture, constant blade changes and growing dark circles, I’d say he’s doing perfectly well.’’ 

“Please tell me he’s still been drinking his tea?’’ 

“At the hour, everyday. He may have been upset but he didn’t undergo an entire personality swap.’’

Fussy, that man was. A grin tugged at the corners of my lips, albeit forced, it was something. This, I’d missed this. 

“Does he and Erwin know I’m back?,’’ I’d been afraid to ask, unsure yet if I wanted to see either of them. 

Sure, Erwin was my friend, and I cared for him dearly but he would certainly rip me a new one once recovered. Already my abilities as Squad Leader had been put in question before my expedition, what would he think once he realized the reason I came back alone was because I hadn’t been a quick enough leader. I hadn’t performed to the demands of the position and it cost me six excellent soldiers. Six utterly good people. Completely and utterly good people. 

“Mhm,’’ She hummed. “I sent out a message last night while you were still asleep. I’ll have to ask them to revoke your death certificate.’’ 

“Pardon, my what?’’ 

The words had slipped out without much thought. It made sense, admittedly. I had been gone for a very long time and no rescue teams had seen or signaled anything. We must’ve been presumed dead instead of continuing to waste resources trying to find a vanished squad. 

“Neither wanted to sign it!,’’ They tried to explain, “We didn’t really believe you were dead. You'd told us that when you died that you would rattle the depths of this mysterious world in death as you have amongst the living. Better yet, you’d do something so ridiculously grandiose even Levi couldn’t complain about the waste of resources. You weren’t dead because the space you took up was still yours. You were alive because we would’ve known, because we know you.’’ 

She seemed to say it to reassure herself more than me. It was pretty lies, that's what it was, essentially, we were lying to ourselves, and I wanted nothing more than to be enveloped in their beauty. I picked up their hand gently and placed it atop my chest. To feel my heart beating, faintly but there, to feel how alive I truly am. 

“I’d die magnificently. Starving to death or becoming titan fodder really isn’t my style, you’re right. I’m glad Erwin remembered his promise.’’ 

I’d asked him one day if I could have the luxury of choosing how to die, in case a sacrifice charge was our only way out. It almost had been, that day. He’d nodded solemnly, knowing that wasn’t up to him, but he’d nodded and that was that. I wasn’t going to let them down after years of build-up. My death would blind the damned Gods and my ashes would sprout the same shit as Titan spinal fluid. It was a fantasy, a wild, wild fantasy, but it was a nice one. It was not one I was prepared to let go of, just yet. 

Hange smiled weakly before their expression turned dark, “You were sent out to eliminate human foe. Why? How- How are there people out there? Why were you sent out for that?’’ 

Erwin had previously shown me reports from surveillance officers detailing a group of people, humans, like us, defiling and leaving our squads for dead. Not only were they strong, but they were armed and they’d won against formidable opponents. 

“I wasn’t sent out to be disposable, Hange,’’ I sighed. “Erwin did what he does best, he gambled. They’d known who I was instantly and so instead of giving us the luxury of a quick death, they kept us in some underground space. We were chained to the walls, we couldn’t help another without a key and they rotated ownerships everyday without following any particular pattern. There were 12 of them, at least from what I saw.”

Hange took this in. 

“I killed their leader first, he’d been the biggest pain the ass. I sliced his throat open and stuffed his severed dick into the cut.’’ I paused. I enjoyed thinking of his corpse, but the ones of mine I’d left behind. “I hope his ghost haunts me. I hope he remembers the scorn of my touch, I hope his soul weeps at his own helplessness. I had been one of the lucky ones too, as Squad Leader I still needed to be moderately presentable to parade out like a sick prize. They’d killed my men before anything else, we were their reward.’’ 

I didn’t dare risk a glance at my friend. I imagined she wore a warped horrified glare at the metaphorical ghost who would be spared no tears, of her friend flaunting such gruesome death, at other members of humanity who became monsters worse than Titans. You had to try hard for that title to befall you, even in death.

I cleared my throat, “Anyway, I got some information but my main incentive was to leave when it was most optimal to try. Point is, I got out.’’ I wouldn’t divulge any more than that, Hange didn’t need to know the details. 

They were quiet for a while. “You were gone for seven weeks. And while we presumed you- Your squad- I’m sorry.’’ 

There was nothing more that needed to be said. Seven weeks, not a short run. Seven weeks had become my eternity, my forever and my hell. Seven weeks out of fifty two I wasted biding my time and it cost me lives, _friends_. And who knows how long until I can even carry ODM gear. I wasn’t going to be on the field for perhaps even longer. 

Fear rose in my chest and gripped my heart with a force I hadn’t felt in years. I believed I’d conquered fear, I was proven wrong seven weeks ago. 

“Hange, Erwin isn’t going to strip me of my title as Squad Leader, is he?,’’ My concern was palpable. “At least if I’d died I would’ve held some honour to my name. But this… I failed. Hange, I failed.’’ 

I needed to tell someone. So I told Hange. I couldn’t let Erwin or God forbid Levi know what I was thinking, how I felt. I’d be humiliated. I could cover it up with crumbs of charm and wit all I’d like, but I had to be confident in my decisions as Squad Leader even if they were the wrong ones. I couldn’t afford to falter, to go off balance. I couldn’t afford failure and neither could humanity. 

“Granted, I got information. And as valuable as such material is, it wasn’t worth it.’’ I bit my lip forcefully in attempted restraint. “It wasn’t worth any of it. It wasn’t worth Wren’s mangled corpse. It wasn’t worth Sabran’s muffled screams in the night as I wondered who’d forced themselves into her womb, then. It wasn’t worth watching Eadaz wither away into her sunken bones. None of it, Hange. The price I paid is one no soldier, no matter what rank, should have to pay.’’ 

I’d held my composure for so long. I’d been strong and for once I wanted to be weak. I felt so drained, so lost. So heavy and light and empty. I felt everything at once. Tattered breaths wracked out of my chest, again and again. Tears ran down my cheeks, rivers of grief splattered around my eyes and soaked my collar. A collar from a thin cotton tunic, shitty and lathered in my own filth. 

I couldn’t even force out a pitiful chuckle before my throat constricted on itself. Tight with loss and with resentment, tight and squeezing as if it were trying to claw the air out of my lungs for me. _Do it_ , I thought. 

I gritted my teeth and sat with my back flush to the bed. The rasp in my throat, the burn of muscle, more. More, I needed more. 

Hange looked at me wide and gaping. I had shown them I wasn’t fit to be a soldier. She knows now how I’d been pretending, how I’d been adding onto the load on my shoulders until one day I hoped I would crumble and fall six feet under. 

My wandering eyes met theirs before locking onto the ceiling above me. I whispered to myself, so low I hope no living soul but my own dead thing could hear. 

“I’m sorry,’’ I whispered again.

I looked at her, now. Truly looked at her. Nothing seemed real. Not her steady grip in my own, not the familiar pattern of scattered scratches on her goggles. 

I blew out a sigh, “What’d you reckon they’ve drugged me and let me dream. How cruel, how cruel of them to let me feel the warmth of dreams to rip me back into my frigid chains of nightmares.’’

I said it out loud, out loud so that I would not be the only one who’d gone mad. That maybe it would spread to Hange. No, she was mad enough on her own. May she never be sane. 

“Oi, come back here. You’ve drifted off somewhere, somewhere I don’t wish to follow. (Y/N), you walk this Earth with the rest of us, you'd do well to remember that before I shove a fistful of dirt in your mouth to remind you.’’ 

I forced a laugh of pure relief. That was Hange, that was real and that was Section Commander Hange Zoe. 

“When-’’ A cough interrupted me, “When are the Commander and Captain arriving?’’ 

Dread filled the pit in my stomach at the mere thought.

They exasperated, “I don’t know.’’ 

They reclined back into their chair, their hand in mine, the other tipping water between my lips. 

Humanity was fucked. We fucked ourseleves, forcefully and cruelly. What a cruel world full of cruel people. Mikasa Ackerman, Eren’s supposed guardian angel, had said so too. That it was a cruel world, but that if we do not fight, then we cannot win. I accepted my cuts and losses, and set out to win. I would fight, and I would win. 

“Hange, get me out of this damn bed.’’ 


	3. Missed Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're finally on your way out from Trost, meaning you'll have to talk to Erwin and Levi eventually. Now's as good a time as any..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so fun fact english isn't my first language and i had completely forgotten to change my keyboard settings so the dialogue tags looked,,, bad. horrid would even be an understatement. anywayyy, i fixed it (hopefully) and now it looks normal. also, you may have noticed that a lot of the reader's squad names are from popular booktok books, you'd be right. Matthias is from SOC (i'm sorry to those who hate him but i will not relent, he was an amazing character) and the rest are from Priory of The Orange Tree! so if you've read the books, you can get a feel for their designs (except for Combe and Wren, picture them however you wish!)

They hadn’t even left HQ, according to the poor messenger. They’d known Hange was with me, I was certain they’d thought that she would suffice. With she had, and beyond. I could not repay whatever benevolence brought them into my step. For now, I could thank Hange with a promise for 5 accompanied Titan excursions. They seemed quite pleased with my offer, though insisted that they needed nothing in return.

I felt like I was bribing them, in part for hiding what embarrassing breakdown I’d had in Trost and for continuing to stick around afterwards.

I can’t say it didn’t hurt when the errand boy had informed us that both my (former?) lover and brother-in-arms had deemed my return from their presumed grave unworthy of leaving their posts. I understood, as someone with equal rank to Hange, of course I understood that it was a very real possibility that they were held up with on-site emergencies. Nevertheless, I gave myself the right to be petty.

I was allowed a ‘Welcome Back!’ hug and kiss… or maybe I just wanted to feel Levi’s calloused hands to remind me that he was real and so was I.

Still, even with my shitty attempts at convincing myself I was fine, trotting back to headquarters proved to be more nerve-wracking than anticipated. It had been my home for a little over a decade and I was afraid of the building. Pathetic.

I turned over to Hange who, along with others in her squad, followed in a steady step. If I’d had my squad maybe we’d be doing the same, or maybe to spite Hange’s perfect form Matthias would have jumped out of formation to buy a flower for whichever pretty lady he managed to swoon that coming evening. Maybe we’d have done as we always had and never will again.

I was loathe in self-pity. As if my disappointment in myself wasn’t ardent enough, I could barely imagine the surface of Levi’s own. What would he think? Would he sympathize with my losses? Would he be worried? Had he worried at all? Would he be angry? Why would he think anything at all? I concluded I cared too much about what that raven-haired midget might think, far too much. In defiance to myself, I sighed and raised my chin back up.

It had taken a couple of days until Hange actually granted my request to get the hell out of Trost. Doctors were very picky people, I’d learned. I’d also learned to mask every minute jab to my rib and subtle strain on my ankle at my horse’s every misstep. At least they’d gotten off my case. Now Erwin and Levi… they were considerably harder to convince.

We dismounted, and I assured myself I was as graceful and skillful as ever but I reckon it resembled more a flopping fish out of its pond rather than a highly trained ranking official. I had gotten off without ripping any of my stitches, and managed not to worsen any lingering old ones so there was a victory in there somewhere.

Face to face with that looming entrance, domineering as ever, I felt fear stick a rod in my spine. I would have to see people my squad had known, and I had to walk in there alone. Alone but haughty and conceited as ever, for my sake.

Their grief... Their grief, I feared, would manage to pry me open. I could not let it. I was their leader and commanding officer, they would bow their heads when they spat.

Hange stepped in first, steady, solid. Eccentricities aside, they were a damn good leader in their own right. She was what composure I had to emulate, at least for those who could not get closure. So, I did.

I pinched my lips together and fixed a cold stare to the doors across the hall. I felt their eyes digging holes into my worn skin, my cut and bruised and sunken skin. My face was a mess, admittedly, but I could speak, and I could breathe. And I was not disfigured. Dig all they’d like, I survived.

Tentative steps slowed on tiles, their outreach cut short. I was untouchable, unattainable. They had to believe it. They had to. 

Eventually, I found myself face to face with the sprawling oak doors I’d dreaded seeing for days. Hange opened the door on their left and stepped aside the creak of old wood. Too quickly, not quick enough, spine too straight, a hair out of breadth, every flaw suddenly screamed at me. Erwin would not expect perfect, I was a soldier but I had been a friend and he had to know that.

I steeled a breath and walked in.

Erwin sat at this desk whilst Levi stood leaning on a chair before it. Both heads whipped around to my entrance, rupturing whatever schemes they had begun to weave.

Hange had mentioned it, they had explained Eren's retrieval mission against the Colossal and Armoured Titan, I just hadn't really picture Erwin without his right arm. The Commander was right-handed. He wrote in loopy and slanted letters with a precise and practiced pressure to give different thickness of strokes. He'd have to learn it all over again. How had his signature changed? How long had it taken him to be given leave from bedrest? Had Levi been helping him? I stood frozen for a beat too long gaping at the lack of limb. 

I quickly peeled my attention away from Erwin and mustered the stiffest salute I could give. Which was one pitiful fist lightly thumped against the insignia on my jacket and a limp arm hanging behind my back to feign an illusion of a solid thing. It fooled neither men.

I could not look at the Captain. I could not bear to see his wide eyes nor his white knuckles gripping the back of the chair. I could not. Just as I would not notice the way Erwin’s pen jerked out of his grip.

“Section Commander (Y/N) reporting, sir!’’ My voice would have boomed seven weeks ago. Though having grown fuller these past few days, no amount of water had truly soothed my ravaged throat. It had remained raspy and weak, but steady. Steady enough, I hoped.

No one stirred. Even Hange stood back. The ink of my certificate had barely dried and I’d already risen to defy them once more. My ‘death’ had shaken the unshakable, the great Commander Erwin Smith and Humanity’s Strongest. What more was there to say?

A lot, I thought to myself. There was a lot left unsaid. I hadn’t quite felt how loud silence could be until now.

Erwin broke the looming tension with the scrape of his chair. His attention was drawn to my salute, my shitty and limp salute, a formation that should have become second nature the last decade.

He made his way across the room to me with a locked gaze. His eyes flitted up and down, assessing me as the doctors had but the urgency in it had gone. I was not crawling my way back into the walls, I was stood face to face with a friend, with a friend I’d consider family.

His left hand moved hesitantly as it came up to reach the arm still frozen across my chest and tightened my fist underneath a squeeze of his palm. He focused on the next mishap and trailed delicately as he lowered my shoulder and bent my elbow. He’d fixed my position.

His eyes met mine in a shared breath, shared disbelief. He’d barely gotten the chance to open his mouth when the oak gate-like doors slammed shut behind me, too close to me, and I _jumped_. I had visibly jumped and paled. It had barely been a minute and I had failed already. I regretted leaving Trost.

Hange’s head peeked out from behind my back and mouthed a small, ‘Sorry’ before retreating back.

Firm hands then steadied my shoulders. My whole body tensed under his grip, expecting a lecture, expecting punishment, something, anything. I did not expect a loose embrace to wrap itself around my chest. Scout Regiment Commander Erwin Smith had hugged me.

Frozen, I did my best not to throw myself into his chest and fall into reflex. This was not so difficult, I thought, being held by a friend. He was careful not to touch any of the afflicted areas on my back as my arms forcefully reached up to hook around his torso. My head fell limply against his chest, his tall, long chest as I drew in an equally long, deep breath. This was… okay. This was okay.

He broke away with glassy eyes and dipped his head low in recognition of what I’d lost and of what humanity had gained. I forced a tight-lipped smile, lifting the right corner of my mouth slightly to resemble a smirk. A smile, even.

“Erwin…’’ My voice failed me again, a weak hoarse of a voice it had become.

I’d never forgive my body for failing me so. I would charm no MP with a rasp likened to the ruined lungs of a wall soldier on his last cigarette.

“At ease, Section Commander. Sit, please,’’ He directed his hand to the chair beside Levi’s as he sat back down on his desk. I obliged.

Levi had not spoken, had not moved, even. Unflinching, unmoving, he was a perfect statue of a man. He trailed my stiff gait, my weak attempts to hide my constricted breathing. I could hide nothing under his scrutiny.

I cleared out my throat before speaking. “So, I come back short a squad and you, Commander, an arm.’’ I forced out a half-hearted smile. “Do you think you could keep my death certificate for me, Commander? I wouldn’t mind it as room decor the more I think of it.’’

That earned me a smile. A real smile on his lips. It broke momentarily before he spoke again, “You understand why we-’’

“Erwin.’’ I hoped my voice was soft. “I would’ve done the same. Though I would’ve appreciated a more extravagant service, maybe even a coffin, but I know we’re tight on our budget and so on. I’d like to hang it in my office, though, if you haven’t already filled my position.’’

Lackluster charm. Even if none of it had been real in the first place, I had once been the glowing wit. Now here I sat, the dimmed corpse with her duller words.

Levi spoke, this time, “It’s like you left it.’’

I had to look at him, now. Look at the echo of his impassive voice, trained as he was to give nothing away. I knew his tells, but he knew them better. It came out exactly as intended, a curt informational exchange.

“I expect the dust it was collecting enraged you, Captain. Worry no more, I’ll get to cleaning it in the coming week.’’ I offered a meek smile, but he saw through me and looked away.

I felt the jab in my heart, with his ignorance to it all. It was a quick thing between us, I supposed, but he had held me. He’d held me and I’d held him beyond just cupping my breasts and stroking his dick. He had kissed my temple tenderly, once, when I had been working late. His fleeting touches had never hardened with his rage. No matter how easy violence would have been a solution, his hold on me had remained gentle. I had been wrong, though. I was wrong to underestimate Levi Ackermann’s resolve to grief.

“Next week? Section Commander, you haven’t been cleared for a return to your duties. You are not doing manual labour when you could be twice as useful and effective with tactical forces.”

That surprised me. It was a practical decision to make, of course. I just hadn’t thought I’d be given leniency. I’d already been given a full week for recovery (not that I was ‘recovered’ but he didn’t need to know that).

“Right. I suppose you want my report, as well? I can have it on your desk by tomorrow evening if that convenes with your schedule?’’ I proposed as collected as I could. I felt even more mad pretending to be more sane than I doubt Levi and Erwin had ever thought me to be.

“Leave it with the rest of Levi’s paperwork. Is there anything urgent or essential we need to know before tomorrow night?’’

I sighed and leaned back into my chair, “They aren’t human shifters like Eren or Ymir. They’re men of flesh and blood, monsters in name only. Odd thing though, there wasn’t a single Titan in my path until I reached the Walls. When my squad and I had first been sent out, we’d had to redirect a handful of times but, I’d say with full certainty that they had continuously cleared a five-mile radius all around. Besides that, if you’ve got a map somewhere I’d be able to triangulate a rough patch of land where they settled. Word to the wise, if you do end up looking for them, though, you’ll only find about three left.’’

They knew they’d sent me to face a threat double my own numbers. I figured they’d connected the dots themselves.

I rose from my seat and attempted another salute before Erwin put his hand up, declining my effort. I bit back an exhausted sigh at his pity. When I had dreaded meeting Erwin it was to be crushed by his disappointment, not pity. I would have rathered the former, at this rate. I’d rather my current state to not taint his image of me.

The image of a stealthy and talented marksman. That of an equal to the one whose position I filled, Miche Zacharias. That of a cunning strategist who played by their weaker strength but more than compensated with quick-thinking and an even sharper tongue. I was useful, both in combat and wit.

I had fought my way out of that fucking cellar and I’d won. I planned and I schemed and I bode my time and I came out alive. I had to believe that I had done it. I had to prove it to them that I had done it. That I was still a force to be reckoned with. I just had to prove it to myself that I could be that person again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> side note: next chapter WILL include more Levi i swear (and also erwin bc i love him)


	4. The Reaper and The Wandering Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Writing your report is proving to be a little harder than you'd originally planned. As a soldier you know grief, but not quite when it's family..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! again! the update schedule willl have to change because i only really had 6 chapters pre-written in advance and goddamnit levi is hard to write. i love him and that's like the whole point of this fic but he's such a complex character and i reaaalllyy wanna nail him down (which is, not surprising anyone, very difficult to do). also, in the midst of ep.8-9 of s4, friendly reminder that levi has to knock hange out to bathe her. also his love language is 100% acts of service

The very second my lungs hit cold, _untensioned_ air, relief flooded me until I feared my eyes would drown. I knew I would be off the field for a handful of weeks, but the Commander wasn’t replacing me, he wasn’t even demoting me. I still had my rank, my position as a soldier, as a tactician. I was still valuable. Recounting this to Hange was surprisingly less mind-blowing than I’d originally felt it was. 

She absently cracked open a nut with her teeth, “It surprised nobody but you, my dear blind bat.’’ 

“Bat?’’ 

“You don’t bother to read a single book I lend you,’’ They scoffed. “Blind winged creatures from outside the walls. Your biological ignorance aside, you couldn’t have possibly believed that Erwin would’ve put you back in the field. You can barely breathe for five minutes without wheezing, you damn invalid. You’d be dead weight.’’ 

I groaned, a half wheeze escaping my strained lungs. The irony wasn’t lost on me. “I hate it when you’re right. I don’t know, I was scared he’d spit back at me every doubt I’ve had over my decisions as leader, which is stupid. He most likely wouldn’t have, but Levi knows me too well not to already know what fears those even were. He was startlingly silent today, though, it was truly unnerving. Like one of your bats.’’ 

Her eyes brightened for a second and I feared I had made a grave mistake. “Actually bats communicate through noises they let resonate and rebound against nearby surfaces. It’s their compass, but instead of magnetism, humanity used to call it echolocation!’’ 

I sneaked a nut from their bag into my pocket too swiftly for them to have noticed before making my perilous exit. “Alright, darling. Make sure to tell Levi _all_ about your bats tomorrow. I’m certain he’d be delighted.’’ 

They grimaced before shooing me out to continue developing whatever early sketch I’d seen roughly drawn in their notebook. Night began to fall, and I made my way back to my office. I hadn’t even begun writing my report.

I knew what I had to omit purely out of caution, sadly I also knew I had to actually write it. To transcribe conversations I’d overheard, details of their equipment, the status quo they’d established, theories on why I thought they’d done as they had. Humanity’s progress would wait for no healing soldier, I understood that. I understood its importance, though pardon me if I wasn’t particularly keen on repeating traumatic experiences I hadn’t quite yet processed and was still extremely vulnerable to. As my body kept reminding me as I’d laid down to sleep last night, and as I’d gotten dressed this morning, as I’d eaten breakfast, and at my sad attempts to tidy my office. At least I’d framed the certificate. 

It looked nice up there on my otherwise barren walls. I found it resembled a kind of participation trophy to death. In morbid appreciation, I liked it. I liked what I chose to take from it; that it had not been simple enough to trample Death but to pillage it. That I had gotten home, that even my closest allies had underestimated the strength of my spite. 

Though if I looked at it too long it screamed at me of impermanence. The fleeting trust of the living and the constant cold of the dead. It begged to be told the same story again, a story of sacrifice and a wasted life. It soaked up the blood from my tinted hands to spit it back at me. The wound of loss still bled, as it would not let me forget the bargain of six for one. My strength stood on a pile of six bodies. I did not ravage Death, I had fed it. 

If I could not avoid grief, I certainly could Levi Ackermann. He, too, had managed to avoid me the entire duration of my time back inside the Walls. If he could help it, I had no doubt he would’ve left Erwin’s office had he not been ambushed by my return. Well, that wasn’t entirely up to him though, was it? I had to hand in this goddamn report and he would see to it that it sat pretty on Erwin’s desk for tomorrow morning’s briefing. 

Maybe he believed I was a ghost. Grief never really left the beloved Captain, perhaps he’d believed he was hallucinating. If he truly thought he was hallucinating then the Scouts have no hope. Either that or it was the perfect prank opportunity offered to me on a silver platter. For me, of course, probably less amusing for him. No, that would be more like psychological torture, wouldn’t it? Though he wouldn’t be the first to consider me _‘undead’_. 

Reaper, they called me, now. 

For I’d ‘conquered’ Death. I had stared it right in the face and it had refused. Some believed I’d made a bargain with a certain hellish Saint to take the lives of my comrades and save my own hide. Others think I killed them myself. The majority, though, stayed quiet. They may murmur the coined name in hushed gossip, but still believed me loyal to my team. Perhaps I should run a public opinion status poll and waste my time collecting numbers instead of procrastinating my report. I could get along with Reaper, though. 

These trivial sorts of distractions were good. They helped my mind flit over the memories without ever truly having to sit with them. They allowed me to detach myself from my grief and spin it into a story or spectacle for others to feel for me. 

Which was shitty of me, and a shitty way to remember the fallen, but my best example of grief counselling was Levi’s bottled up time bomb and Hange’s uncontrollable sobs. The latter was likely healthier, now I thought about it. 

I had screamed when doctors had fixed my shoulder, how different would it be to scream grief. To see if with a force like Eren’s scream if I could drive away guilt and grief as he does Titans.

With that in mind, I finally set to working. I sat down in my chair, as I always had, and propped my ankle along the corner of my desk - as it had been cleared to accommodate. It felt the same as it had when I’d left it. It was too much of the same room. 

That same room where Sab and Ead had divulged their romantic endeavors to their superior, stiff and serious. We’d laughed about it later over some nicely aged wine. They’d wished to be buried together, I remember them telling me. Soil is soil, I’m sure their corpses would reach each other in earth in due time. 

I pinched my temples. No, this was definitely not a very strong start. I dipped my nub in ink and began to write. I wrote of winter winds and the seasons’ bite. I wrote of our disadvantage in a different climate, a perfect ambush opportunity. How they’d been born of shadow and drew their swords, nothing like ODM blades, and made quick work of Combe and Rowan who had been on watch at the time. How Matthias had quickly vowed revenge for his fallen brothers only to be impaled seconds apart. I omitted how their blood had stiffened our hair. 

I detailed the room we’d been kept in, the three of us left chained to the walls. They could’ve housed triple our numbers with how many empty pairs of cuffs hung by our side. They’d used the empty slots to space us out, to prevent us from helping one another. They had wanted us fully at their mercy, pliant and obedient vessels for whatever their hearts, or dicks, desired. I began to describe individual treatment, how they would sometimes make Ead watch Sa-

My pen stopped of its own volition, ink globs now mixed with fat droplets of tears. I needed a new paper now, goddamnit. I couldn’t rewrite it. They’d have to file my filthy report along with the rest, then. I was not rewriting this. 

I tried to dig up the resolve I’d been able to surface with Erwin and Levi. A mask of ice to steady my hand. My spiraling mind did not freeze, however, it would not obey. I slammed my pen against my desk and dug my fingers into my scalp. I tugged at my hair, my now clean hair. I attempted to think of my shower, instead. Of it’s warm water washing off the dirt, caressing my skin with little bites. Their touch would not scrub off, no matter how hard I’d tried. Of the soap’s slight sting as it ran across my stitches. I thought of the remaining pellets of dried blood clogging the drain. Matthias, Rowan, Combe.

Fuck, at this rate this report won’t get finished by the crack of tomorrow’s dawn. Perhaps I did need to scream, or hit something. I should hit something. 

As my hand reached for the doorknob, it opened on its own to reveal one Levi Ackermann on the other side. 

“H-’’

“I need your papers. I’m turning my files in now.’’ His passive, half-lidded drawl was impeccable. He should’ve been handed scripts not obituaries with how infallible his act had grown. Maybe it was my wishful thinking that it was an act and nothing more. 

My fingers pinched the bridge of my nose. Yes, this was exactly what I needed. 

“I’ll hand it in myself later,’’ I bit back harsher than intended. 

He had barely shrugged and walked away to Erwin’s office. 

I shut the door and slid down its back. Well, I don't believe I had exactly _wooed_ him with my talents of a temptress. I laughed at myself, not that I would have necessarily liked that approach either. Knowing his stubborn arse, he was probably acting out of self-preservation. You know, keeping a distance thing to protect me from the inevitable further loss of attachment. Or he truly didn’t give a shit and I was good fun while I lasted. Somehow, the latter would hurt less. 

I didn’t want to distract myself from my torrent of emotions, this time. With my head tucked between my knees, I let my hair accompany the fall of my tears. I’d made every possible wrong decision. That was why I couldn't finish this gods-damned report, I couldn’t expose my guilt to them all. But mostly I did not wish to face it myself, to see the picture my own words had painted. Another dream, another nightmare. 

It hurt. No pretty words, it just hurt. I could decorate their absence all I’d like, it wouldn’t make it any less empty. I wanted to clean Eadaz’s knives, I wanted to smack Combe in the back of the head for mock-imitating Levi, I wanted to spend hours tending to the gardens with Wren. I wanted, I wanted, I wanted. I wanted so many things. What was want but selfish desire? I had wanted everything, and I was left with ruins. 

I blew out a choked sob and cried. I cried quietly to the darkness, I cried while clutching the collar of my shirt in a desperate attempt to pry myself as far away from the painful sensation of aliveness. How I had no claim to it. I screamed. I screamed as silent as death and let my temples strain. 

Something had shifted then. Something, something, something. Every shift of my body pressed fabric closer to my skin, I felt it, I felt them. I hurriedly threw my Scouts jacket to the ground when my harness began to choke me. It crawled along with the dead. Get it off, I told myself. Get it off. Get it off! 

Only once I’d heard the metal buckles clang against the wooden flooring was I satisfied. I ripped open the buttons on my blouse and let it hang loosely around my shoulders. As far away from my collarbones as it could drape. 

This time, I did not care to catch my breath quietly. I did not care. I felt their knives still digging in my back, I felt their blade in my skin. The wound could not close so it remained open and gaping. Aching and bleeding. I ached, dear god, I ached. 

I groaned loudly, painfully, as I nudged the legs of my desk with my heel. If I kicked hard enough, I’d knock this thing. I wanted to hear it crash, I needed to see it fall. Just as I’d raised my foot, a knock sounded at my door again. 

“Fuck off,’’ I grumbled. 

“’I got too many damn cadets to dust your desk today for you to throw shit around.’’ 

Ah, the pleasures of Levi Ackermann. I stood up, if only to deliver him a good one to his smug, pretty face. He didn’t deserve it, but didn’t he? He’d be the judge of that when my fist drenched in his bloo-

He’d stepped into my office without my permission. Just as I was about to clock him. My anger dissipated slightly at the ease with which he carried himself in my space. I wasn’t mad at him, not really. But the shame I’d been protecting myself from, the resentment, was now coming to fruition. 

His nose had crinkled at my clothes on the floor and spilled ink on my desk. I stood disheveled and frozen, just looking at him.

“Report’s not done’’ 

He’d rifled through the files on my desk to find empty pages and dabbed the ink with it. “I didn’t come here for the report.’’ 

Always a charmer, that lover of mine. The second the thought escaped me, I went rigid. He was probably right to keep a distance after all, there was no way this wasn’t ending in tears or blood spilled.

I bit back a gasp at the sudden pain in my side but managed to shuffle over. Instinct told me to swat his hand away, but there was no cleaner scout than the Captain. So I closed the door behind him and sat down on the seat beneath my window. I ran my hands down my face and sighed heavily. 

“You gonna tell me why you’re here, Captain?’’

 _Captain._ The change of name didn’t slip past his notice, rarely anything did. He finished sorting my unfinished files in order of importance and sat down in my chair. My chest warmed at the sight of his propped up ankle on my designated spot. 

It was the two of us now, silent apart from the midnight crickets. It never used to feel weird with him, to enjoy each other’s silent presence. But things had changed, things had irrevocably changed.

“I lead the search expeditions,’’ He’d mumbled. As if he’d needed to say it but not quite let me hear it. 

I hummed. I’d figured as much. I was more surprised he wasn’t able to find us though, someone with as proficient skill as his own. I wouldn’t rub it in his face, he probably beat himself up enough for not being there sooner. For not being there at all. 

His seat was far from mine, at my desk. I had thought of his hands, of his tender touches, for weeks. I couldn’t just go up to him and run my fingers through his hair now. I had dreamt of him, though, in the dark. It had not been so bad to dream, not until I’d woken up anyway. 

“What held you back?,’’ I couldn’t help but ask. I didn’t want to admit I’d have rushed to his side had he been the one crawling half-dead, but I needed there to be a solid reason. 

I fiddled with the buttons on the ends of my sleeve. I didn’t want to look at his reaction.

“Military Police pigs came sniffing.” I could hear the sneer in his voice.

Neither one of us actually liked the incompetent bastards, but for access to their artillery and deep pockets, we needed to stroke their ego once in a while. 

Just as I desperately needed to finish this fucking report and it, much to my dismay, was not magically being written by itself. 

“I need help,” I blurted out. “With my paperwork.” Oh it had hurt my pride to say it but it was true, and he would know what to do. He would demean me in the process, but I’d get a solid answer and I’d plow through. 

He looked up at me then, a slant in his brow. He was going to make me explain, the damn bastard. 

“Don’t make me say it again,” I pleaded. 

A gleam in his eye and an outstretched hand reaching for the papers was answer enough. His eyes skimmed the pages briefly. 

“It looks like you dropped it in a bucket of shit,” he finally declared, attention still on the pages. 

“So it speaks! Take it or leave it, Captain,” I shrugged in response. If he expected disappointment, I’d throw it in his face.

His face settled back into its trademark frown. “I don’t know what you expect me to do with this,” he waved the papers demonstratively. 

“And I still don’t know why you sat your ass in my desk, yet here we are.’’ I was being an asshole, I knew it. I knew he, out of everyone, didn’t deserve it, but he’d waltzed in here of his own free will. Not that that included being my verbal punching bag, but still. 

He slid his leg off the top of my desk and straightened his back. He was leavi- wasn’t he? I watched as his hands moved around my cluttered work space and picked up my pen. My surprise only grew when he plucked an empty sheet of paper and began to write. 

I tried to see what in the hell he was doing but he was too far and I wasn’t at my most stealthy. He looked up at me, slightly annoyed. 

“Oi brat, any day now.’’ 

He meant to write it down for me. Overwrought with gratitude, I sat there dumbfounded. He surely wouldn’t want me to delay, certainly not for how much of his time I’ve already wasted, so I sighed and told him what the ink would not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for those wondering what the 'soundtrack' to this fic would be, i almost exclusively write to mitski on the exception of high-action scenes. do with that what you will.


	5. Sweet As Death's Perfume

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levi helps write your report, but your task is far from finished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow! hello! again! i have been on a very long hiatus and this chapter is the bane of my existence. i hate it. i've rewritten it like 8 times but even then that number feels too low. also, plot! there is an actual story here, i know, i know refrain your excitement. related news I decided to torture myself and catch up to the manga so, this fic is gonna be me screaming into an endless void. enjoy you lovely people!

So I sighed and told him what the ink would not. 

I put on my mask, and I performed. I told him everything. Every detail, every drop of blood, every scream, every plea for mercy - as if that would’ve changed a damn thing. It spilled out of me. Levi hadn’t _truly_ asked for this, he doubtlessly didn’t want another sob story. But at least I was done lying to myself, and he was a better listener than my office walls anyway. And he did, he listened. No annoyed grunts, no interruptions, no complaints. He listened and wrote. 

I could’ve sworn I’d seen him pause when I spoke of my journey back to the Walls. Ead and I had been the only ones to make it out of the underground alive, though barely. We’d barely been able to scrap medical supplies and food was scarce when you had two injured bodies to feed and a meager, dull pocket knife to do the job. 

We had to eat her horse, then Ead began to give me her portions. She'd told me that at least one of us should live to tell the tale. I’d killed Ead in a final act of mercy. She’d been ready to die for a while, I think. Her soul had died the second we’d stopped hearing Sabran scream and we were left with the muffled slap of skin on skin. She’d grown too gaunt, too faint, her body had begun to feed on her own muscles by then. I made it quick, at least. 

The grounding scratch of pen on paper halted briefly when I told him how I almost fell prey to Death himself. My bleeding had worsened. I had run out of supplies and there were no hunting grounds for miles upon miles to come. I’d given Death a taste of me and he’d spat me back out. Though, I couldn’t help but feel that it had marked me in return. Reaper was seeming more and more fitting a title. 

I detached myself from the rest. It hurt to speak, it hurt to relay the pain and raw wrath without any of it. Levi would know how to omit that, I trusted him enough to. I performed, still, as a trained soldier would with all the grace of a dancer. My words had moved with a steady cadence, weaving around my pain to hit the beats at the right pace. It was removed, objective. It was not a dance of passion, but of necessity. It was not the soothing lull of baritone at the theatre, it was a restrained screech, and I would expect no standing ovation. 

As the curtains drew back, I was rushed back into my little seat beneath my window to the scratch of pen to paper. Lit by faint candlelight, I found comfort in the dark, in not being seen. It took me a beat too long for me to notice Levi was finished. A strand of hair had fallen into his face and I wondered silently what it would be like to brush it away. 

“Is that all?,’’ he’d asked, barely lifting his attention away from the pages in his hands.

I cleared my throat, “Just about.’’ 

His presence had been large enough, despite his tiny stature, to wind me solidly into reality. To keep my nails from clawing at the surface of my skin and to rip my stitches out with my teeth. Because as impractical, impulsive, reckless, and stupid as those options were, they were certainly better than clocking the Captain. 

Still, I felt lighter, somehow. I hadn’t expected myself to dump all of that baggage onto his shoulders, but _technically_ he had asked. Most of all I hadn’t expected to feel comforted by the fact that someone else knew the full story. If anyone were to know, I was glad for it to be him. He knew Death as intimately as I, if not more. 

He thought I’d died. That was pretty big. It wasn’t romantic between us. I don’t think either of us even knew how to go about _romance_ anyway. Still, my death would have affected him as his would have affected me. I cared for the man, clearly. He knew that, I knew that, we knew these things, we just chose not to speak of them. The affections of one Levi Ackermann consisted mostly of spared glances, hushed whispers and secrets lingering in the dark. It worked, I supposed. I’d found that Levi didn’t quite know how to go about any sort of relationship, even if this one was quite unique in its nature. 

He was giving the papers a final rifle through before calling it quits when I asked if he cared for some tea. That seemed like a safe discussion topic, a quick tonal shift. He liked tea, I liked tea, it was establishing common ground that wasn’t 6 feet under. 

He shrugged, “You’ve wasted a good amount of leaves for one lifetime, don’t bother.’’ 

If I’d had any energy left to spare I might’ve thrown back a light retort about the art and craft of tea-making, but I was exhausted and he wasn’t completely wrong either. He stood from my desk and took the pile of papers with him. Hange had been right, he was slouching. Not that Levi was very well-mannered nor very proper by nature, but it was uncharacteristic. He was not only slouching, but he had a slight bounce to his step. The man was _limping_. I was tempted to mention it, but fuck if I could barely stand I didn’t think I was ready for a spitting match with Levi about his means of selfcare. Short answer, he had none. 

He brought the papers over to me with a pen in his hands. I was to slap my name at the end of every official document to avoid forgeries, as if any self-respecting schoolboy had never practiced his parent’s signature. Still, I propped the papers on the surface of my thigh and scrawled a sloppy version of it, it was barely legible. I shrugged and handed him back the pen. His fingers had barely grazed the surface of my own but the feel of him was unmistakable. It shot heat blooming up to my cheeks. Not out of any sexual desire, but at the intimacy of it, at the knowledge of every memorized callous on his hands. 

I watched him debate whether to go back to my desk chair or to sit next to me. He chose the chair. I couldn’t blame him, it was a very comfortable chair. I’d saved up for months for such cushioning. It made long nights easier. Levi appreciated it too, the damn insomniac, he hadn’t known a single sleep shirt until I’d gifted him one of mine. He typically slumbered fully clothed with his back flushed to whatever chair he’d fallen victim to that night and slept for a record 2-3 hours (on a good night). He was incorrigible, truly. I smiled inwardly at the banality. 

I cleared my throat. His grey eyes met mine. “I’m not going to make you stay and play nursemaid, Levi. It’s late and we’ve got a briefing tomorrow morning. You should get some rest.”

It was a (hopefully) subtle hint that he’d never spent the night. I wasn’t interested in having that start now, especially if I knew I was going to be hit more frequently with nightmares. I tended to dream vividly. Hange said it was the sign of a creative mind, I honestly just felt more frail than particularly artistic. 

He simply nodded. Per the typical Levi, completely impassively. I hoped he didn’t feel like this was a dismissal. “I’ll drop this off,” he propped up the stack of papers. 

I smiled sheepishly. I wanted to thank him. I wanted to thank him and seal it with a kiss. I wanted to feel him, to get completely and utterly lost in the memory of him. I wanted to gently press my palm beneath his jaw and feel the heartbeat thrumming underneath.

A heartbeat, subtle or faint, was as good a luck as you’d come around. The tangibility of life had once brought me comfort. It was a way to remind ourselves that though this cruel world threatened to tore us apart with every passing day, he was alive. And so was I. That was more than we’d originally bargained for. I had not forgotten how when our squads met back after 57th, he had held the back of my neck in his palm, the other pressed under my neck. Just as I had not forgotten that he’d never let a damn rookie clean my office. 

The soft click of the door closing shook me awake from my daydreams. I pulled my knees back taut to my chest. I relished in the pain it brought to my ribs. I needed to be awake, not fantasizing about living happily ever after with the Captain. I ran a tired hand down my face.

Tomorrow, I had a sneaky feeling, was not going to be a very chipper day. 

I had not slept soundly. In fact, my subconscious had made the brilliant decision to torture me for the rest of the evening. For once, and I would never mention this to him, I was thankful for Erwin’s crack-of-dawn early briefings. I don’t know how long I ‘slept’ but it sure as hell was an hour too long, for my own sanity at least. It had, admittedly, been a while since my last nightmare. They tended to be quite… abstract. And that was putting it lightly. None of it made a lick of sense apart from the very real fear I felt thunder in my chest following me from the realm of dreams to that of reality. 

When I got ready that morning, I stopped myself at the sight of my reflection. Truly pause and take a good look at my face. My cheekbones had sharpened, I noticed all too quickly. My eyes had as well, as if permanently imprinted with a hawk’s narrowed glare. I had sunken into shadows of my own making. Now I understood the cadet’s wary gazes, I looked about as hollow as I felt. 

Hange had helped me get into my uniform, as they had for the past week. It was an unspoken thing. She’d come by early in the mornings under the pretense of bringing me something to break my fast, then insist on helping me get dressed. Those damn leather straps were a tangled labyrinth of their own on a good day, and when you threaten to pop a stitch with every turn of your torso, it does get worse. Hange slipped me into them with nimble fingers as she shot off at the mouth. She spoke of new experiments she was itching to try after having stared at the Colossal Titan’s carcass. I enjoyed her anecdotes, though, it provided a sense of normalcy no one could deliver quite as well as her. 

Now, I stood in front of those damn oak doors again with Hange by my side. They opened the doors and inside I found the typical Commander Erwin at the head of the table, Levi on his left, an empty seat for Hange on his right, Moblit beside hers and a map in the middle of it. Soldier figurines were placed in Erwin’s formation, targets traced out near a forest. This was less inviting than the discussion of corruption I was expecting to have. A chipper morning indeed, I scoffed to myself.

I sat down opposite Erwin and watched him assess the board one last time before addressing us all. The positions were reminiscent of the vague descriptions Hange had relayed from Eren’s rescue mission. I didn’t like that he was going over them again, the same who preached ‘no regrets’. This board felt like regret to me. 

Erwin stood from his chair, and announced our starting point, “Reiner Braun and Bertholdt Hoover, formerly of the 104th cadet corps, have revealed themselves to be the Armoured Titan and Colossal Titan respectively, having taken with them Eren and Ymir - a fellow titan shifter. We lost many men in Eren’s retrieval as well as Ymir herself and our fellow comrades in Miche Squad.”

Just as Hange had informed me of Erwin losing his arm, she’d also mentioned something about Eren unlocking certain Titan abilities. She’d mentioned it most. I was hung up on the story of young Ymir, though. Ymir had insisted on taking a young blonde, Christa, only to leave her behind for the other shifters. Hange had wiggled a finger in her ear to demonstrate how loudly Christa’s cries had sounded. A love doomed by the fates of this cruel world, what was new? 

“We’ve since learned from fellow classmates that the boys had both repeatedly mentioned going back to their hometown. Very conveniently, Annie Leonhart, also known as the Female Titan, had been known to occasionally say the same thing. Six scouts dead, three titan shifters, and a new titan ability. Section Commander (Y/N), feel free to share with us your concerns. You imparted with me before you left that there was increasing distrust within the Scouts, and it seems you were proven right tenfold.”

I stood up from my seat but knew better than to attempt the salute this time. I didn’t hesitate to instead delve into the brunt of it. “I do like to be right, Commander, though I wish for once I wasn’t. Commander Erwin had sent my squad on a reconnaissance mission to further investigate a foreign threat waging unexplained attacks outside the Outer Rim. They would raid the bodies for Corps equipment, and leave the rest to the Titans, presumably.”

“In my time in their temporary hideout, I found that they were nomadic, and they never stayed in one spot for longer than the time I was away. They weren’t trained by any means, no move of theirs indicated precise pre-meditation. Amateurs, for lack of a better term. Amateurs, however, would not have had the quality of arms that they did. Pardon my crudeness, but they had a scary-as-shit artillery. They had not only stockpiled stolen weaponry with enough ammunition to blow our lands from the ground up, but their pistols and revolvers had a unique design to them. They all followed a similar structure, none of it familiar. Moreover, my men were felled by foreign blades. They resembled ODM in concept, but theirs were made of thicker steel. 

“My main concern with this, which not only positions them as a more legitimate threat than we’d originally assumed, is that they haven’t sold them. Assuming they know what their material is worth, Underground, or even in Wall Sheena on the black market, their weapons would make them a fortune. One not unlike that of the Lords.”

Moblit expressed out loud, “Either that means they intend to use them, or they have bigger bucks coming in from the outside.”

Levi cut in, “Anyone would do anything for the right price. Access to that kind of weaponry might be more than just profit.”

I followed his thought, “You won’t find this in the report so don’t bother looking, but they knew me. Not just the vague idea of a Squad Leader, they knew my position from face alone. They’d spoken my name before I’d even had the chance. They singled me out when, given my description, you could just as easily have drawn out Eadaz.”

Hange laughed nervously, “You think we’ve got someone in the regiment, don’t you?”

I bit my lip and nodded apprehensively. Moblit loosed a defeated sigh. We were, very politely put, fucked. 

“Could be the Survey Corps, could also be Military Police. Either way, the cracks come from within,” I sighed defeatedly. “We’ve got an unknown foe possibly preparing for an attack we are severely underprepared for, operating solely outside the walls without a Titan in sight, with an informant with ties to the Military.”

Moblit sighed, “And that tally doesn’t account for the Colossal and Armoured Titans.”

Hange added, “Nor my theory that Titans are humans.”

“ _Pardon?,_ ” I had spoken without thought. My mental filter had slipped and drifted off god knows where, I felt sick. Hange believed Titans were wha-

Levi held his hand up, halting Hange from beginning a lengthy rant, “Later, Four-Eyes.”

Hange had slumped back in her seat and folded her arms across her chest defensively. I swore I heard her grumble something to Moblit about him stunting humanity’s scientific advancements or something of the sort. 

Erwin, however, had listened intently, a pensive finger poised under his chin. Ever so the righteous leader of the Scouts. A deceitful face the Gods had given him. When he finally spoke his voice was clear, there was no distinguishable edge to his words. The picture-perfect image of a collected leader. “The threat could originate from outside the walls. We’ve always known borders were a very real possibility.”

An uneasy ripple of uncertainty hovered in the room. Erwin’s proposition was his largest gamble to date, and yet the truth of it rang in my ears incessantly.

Levi but in, this time. “We don’t have the time to explore that theory, Erwin. It would be a suicide charge.” 

I made the second most daring proposition of the meeting then. “They could have associates Underground.” 

Any ounce of hushed uncertainty quieted down to nothing. 

I continued, “It doesn’t explain the outrageous amount of military-grade arms, but it could explain why, if we are dealing with an outside threat, a bunch of amateurs would be rifled out and bestowed such responsibility. It answers too many questions for it to not be a considerable option.” 

The implications were huge, and the suggestion was still too fickle. An easy bribe would be to pray on those wronged by society, those whose resentment would harbor no remorse towards violence. If life outside the walls was the truth we were to be operating on, the only way to investigate the threat was through the threads we could follow on the inside. 

The Captain was the first to speak. It stung to know that I’d be involving him back into elements of his past he had no desire to resurface. He had made a new life for himself now as Humanity’s Strongest, but when speaking of the Underground there was no avoiding the tentative eyes that tended to drift towards the Captain. “If they do come from within the walls, they would’ve been stopped before making it close enough for even a narrow escape.” 

Also true. “Commander, when were the first sightings reported?,” I asked. 

He flipped through his notes clumsily, he was still adjusting to the left-handed thing. “Two weeks before your departure.”

I lowered my head and ran my fingers through my hair. I drew in a breath and after having thoroughly muddled my mind with the amount of questions stirring within, I shared my revelation with the rest of the group. “Two weeks after the Female Titan smashed a hole in the Walls.”

Audible half-mumbled curses sounded throughout. The Order of the Walls was doubtlessly involved, and the integrity of the military was compromised. One thing was certain, we needed to go Underground

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, yearning! we yearn over here, pride and prejudice is a bible. also yay plot, I think y'all can catch the drift we're going in but umm I've planned out this entire story and the diff arcs and I'm guessing (?) it'll take up about 30-40 ch. but we'll see once we get there


End file.
